Frollo could hear the drumbeats as his carriage pulled up to the platform on which he was to perform his duties. Esmeralda had already been carried here and tied to the stake, where she stood, eyes darting around at the crowd, most of which was pleading her innocence and begging for her release, and at the gypsies, packed in cages awaiting their own turn to be the guest of honor at this "little bonfire." These pleas fell upon deaf ears as the executioner piled wood at the gypsy's feet, and Frollo glided up to the platform and unrolled his scroll, barely concealing a smirk. At last, the witch would answer for her egregious sin, and he would be free!

"The prisoner Esmeralda has been found guilty of the crime of witchcraft," he announced over the increasingly vehement protests of the masses. "The sentence… death!" Smirking, he leaned forward to her. It was the custom for a priest to receive a prisoner's final confession at the stake or the gallows, but this request was far different….

"The time has come, gypsy," he hissed. "You stand upon the brink of the abyss… yet even now, it is not too late. I can save you from the flames of this world and the next. Choose me, or the fire." He smiled, awaiting her response. Surely she would be sensible and choose life over death… but she didn't.

She spat in his face.

Enraged, Frollo wiped the saliva from his cheek, and continued addressing the crowd. She had made her choice, and, if her demise was the only way to free himself, so be it. "The gypsy Esmeralda has refused to recant! This evil witch has put the soul of every citizen in Paris in awful jeopardy!" The crowd once again flared up, imploring Frollo to save the "poor gypsy dancer's" life because she supposedly had done nothing wrong. Idiots. Could they not see that her dances were filled with the most unspeakable diablerie? "Thus, she has been sentenced to burn at the stake in the very fires from whence she came! For justice, for Paris, and for her own salvation, it is my sacred duty to send this unholy demon back where she belongs!"

The executioner handed Frollo the torch, and he gladly touched it to the wood. Esmeralda shrank back against the stake in horror as the flames began to lick at her body. Frollo's grin looked positively Satanic through the smoke and the heat haze… but before he could really enjoy his salvation, an inhuman cry sounded through the whole city from above.

"NO!"

"Quasimodo!" snarled Frollo. The bells of Notre Dame rang furiously as the hunchback shook the entire cathedral to break his chains and swing down on a piece of rope to untie Esmeralda, who had lost conciousness. How dare that miserable creature ruin the judge's one last chance at deliverance from this lecherous curse?

"SANCTUARY!" yelled the bell ringer, holding Esmeralda's lifeless body above his head in front of the stained glass window. "SANCTUARY!" The crowd cheered, and the monster was gone, vanished into the depths of the cathedral. That was when Frollo's remaining sanity finally snapped.

"Captain!" he barked. "Seize the cathedral!" Finally, the good side of having absolutely brainless guards showed itself— they had no idea when Frollo's orders were being given by a demon who had taken over his body and his mind. They hurried to block the doors, crossing swords in front of the very Archdeacon, who had come outside to see what in God's name was going on.

Suddenly, a large beam fell from the heavens in front of the guards and the corrupted judge, scattering the soldiers like ants and smashing his carriage to smithereens. Frollo stared at the fallen beam and what remained of his wagon in disbelief for a moment only before becoming, if possible, even more irate and deranged than before. "Come back, you cowards!" he roared to his guards. "You men! Pick up that beam! Break down the door!" He hastened to the front door of the cathedral, sword drawn for effect as he demanded more and more out of his soldiers.

He was only dimly aware of the gypsies' escape and the raging battle between his soldiers, the citizens, and Quasimodo… until the latter hurled molten lead down upon the streets, pouring a cascade of fire inches from Frollo's face. The guards ran, but at least they had left a large enough hole for Frollo to make his way into the cathedral safely, with but a few strikes of his sword to dispel the few remaining shards of wood in his path.

However, this stroke of luck was met by another aggravation for, as usual when Frollo was about to complete one of his arcane goals, the Archdeacon appeared from nowhere. "Frollo, have you gone mad?" he demanded in his booming voice. "I will not tolerate this assault on the House of God!"

By this time, Frollo was too far gone to care that that doddering imbecile was simply looking out for his immortal soul— had it not already been mutilated beyond repair? "Silence, you old fool!" snarled the deranged priest, hurling that infuriating nuisance to the ground. The Archdeacon gazed up in shock and horror as Frollo stormed up the stairs to the belltower. "The hunchback and I have unfinished business to… and this time, you will not interfere!" Seething, he locked the door inside and watched the hunchback's jubiliance from behind a wall as he slipped a dagger from within the folds of his cassock.

It didn't take long, however, for the bell ringer to realize that Esmeralda wasn't responding. The demon that had taken Frollo over cackled triumphantly, but Frollo could not celebrate. He forced his face into solemnity and hid the knife behind his back as he approached the hideous creature, who was now weeping miserably over Esmeralda's corpse.

"You killed her," whispered Quasimodo hoarsely, when Frollo touched his hump soothingly.

"It was my duty, horrible as it was" Frollo replied, his calmness and compassion sounding horribly insincere even to his own ears. "I hope you can forgive me." The hunchback was silent except for a few more shuddering sobs. "There, there, Quasimodo, I know it hurts," murmured Frollo, as he started to reveal the dagger. "But now, the time has come to end your suffering… forever!"

Finally, the knife moved through the air to do what he meant to do twenty years previously and rid the world of that obscene perversion of nature that had profaned the church with its very existence. Unfortunately, Quasimodo saw the knife and, with a gasp, snatched it with his massive hands. Frollo struggled for a brief moment to regain control over the weapon, but the hunchback's brute strength proved too much, and he found himself on the floor, pinned to the wall by a knife-wielding monster.

Even possessed as he was, Frollo knew this was not good.

"Now, now… listen to me… Quasimodo," he faltered, almost begging as the hunchback brandished his weapon.

"No, you listen!" cried the bell ringer hysterically. "All my life, you've told me that the world is a dark, cruel place! But now I see that the only thing dark or cruel about it is people like you!" No matter how upset Quasimodo was, however, Frollo had to be thankful for one thing— he threw the dagger aside. The judge highly doubted that the creature would have had it in him to kill anyone, let alone the man who had raised him, but it was relieving to have all skepticism removed. However, for every stroke of luck, there was an stroke of misfortune.

"Quasimodo?" came a weak voice from the other side of the room.

"Esmeralda!" cried the hunchback happily, running over to the sorceress sitting up on the bed.

Frollo's eyes went wide in horror. No. The witch was dead! He had killed her and purified himself, he was sure of it! But apparently he had been wrong, and he could not absolved himself of his sins quite yet. "She lives!" he gasped, unsheathing the sword he had belted at his side, hidden behind his voluminous black robes.

"No!" yelled Quasimodo, grabbing Esmeralda and hurrying off to the balcony to protect her.

The next few moments were a blur to Frollo, who had now lost every remnant of sanity that he had until now clung so desperately to. He was vaguely aware of the way he was swinging his sword into the gargoyles as he missed the hunchback and the gypsy witch, and had only a indefinite knowledge of how he revealed that he had been the one to kill Quasimodo's mother. The demon was in control as he threw his cape over the bell ringer's head and nearly hurled both of them off the balcony. Finally, some barely intelligable words reached Frollo's ears, hardyl recognizable as his own voice.

"And He shall smite the wicked and plunge them into the fiery pit!"

That was when he came back to his senses, but it was too late. The gargoyle he was holding to broke away from the cathedral— he could only assume that he had cut through it when he had been blinded by the dementia the sorceress had cursed him with. The terrified priest scrambled to regain hold of the cathedral, but it was to no avail. He hurtled hundreds of feet into the molten lead that that infernal hunchback had seen fit to pour into the streets. Frollo screamed as he broke the surface the lake of fire. He watched helplessly as his flesh went from white to pink, to angry red, and finally to black, before the hand of Satan finally dragged him away to spend an eternity of torment in the depths of Hell.

A/N: That's all for this fanfic! Hope you enjoyed it!